oh okay, so here i am writing about some meaningless words in the middle of the night. or not. i’m not writing about some lame jokes nor news we could find at nbc.com. no, i rather write about something that you’ll find it usual. the common, ordinary, my thoughts.
recently i’ve been wondering, since when precisely i write stuffs, especially poems. well let’s not call it poems but something irregular coming from an irregular man. scraps. junks. i prefer to call it that way, so it would be easy to keep on doing it. i am no poet, i am no geniuses like shakespeare, whitman, or even ws rendra. so i think it would be fair for me to call it scraps.
oh ok, back to the beginning, yeah, i was wondering and for now, i cant seem to figure it out,. yet since recently, i’m getting fond of writing poems and it got better when i found out that some of my friends are doing it too. as time goes by, i suddenly realize that we created a circle of poet in it. wow, cool! i always dreaming about how cool Dead Poet Society was, and this circle somewhat copied it. hu-hah!
since i dont write anything now, i assume (and i hope) that this poem will entertain you. this one is one of my favourites written by robert herrick and was stated in the DPS movie. read it and enjoy.
cheers.
To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time
BY ROBERT HERRICK
Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he’s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he’s to setting.
That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.
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